Come Back To Me
by pizarra en blanco
Summary: Castiel fights a battle in Heaven. Dean waits for him to come back. Review please!


Dean sits at the bar drinking his fourth bottle of beer. It is this day, five months ago, that Castiel left to fight a war in Heaven. And for the last five months, Dean has been hunting and killing anything he could find to forget the dull ache in his chest that serves as a reminder of what he's missing. Or perhaps what he has lost. And once a month for the last five months, he has been visiting bar on the same date, drinking himself to a stupor, because it is either getting drunk or praying to an absent God to make His fucking presence known so that Castiel can get his feathery ass to earth. To Dean.

He knows that Sam knows. His younger brother isn't fucking stupid. But thankfully, Sam hasn't talked to him about it. He has researched for hunts while sending Dean occasional looks of concern and worry, but he hasn't tried to talk to him about it. And for that, Dean is grateful.

The day the angel left, Sam asked about him. It reminded Dean of the times when five-year-old Sam would ask where Dad was. And just like his nine-year-old self, his answer that day was simple: He's gone.

But unlike then, Sam didn't say anything but instead patted him on the back twice and left it alone.

* * *

"_No." Dean growled._

"_Dean, this isn't your decision. And it's difficult-" Castiel was calm as always._

"_I said, 'no.' Fuck, Cas! They already threw you around, beat you up, and pulled you out of your vessel! Hell, they even fucking killed you! Somebody else can fight this battle!"_

"_And who would that be, huh, Dean? The longer we wait, the stronger Rafael's forces get. The majority of the angels want this earth gone and the rest are scattered, confused as to what is happening. Who would guide them? Who will lead them?"_

_Dean turned, not wanting to see those blue eyes looking at his soul, lest he sees what's really in there. "Fuck, I don't know! There has to be another way! There has to be someone else!"_

"_There is no one else, Dean. My brothers are counting on me to defeat Rafael."_

"_And what am I supposed to do while you wield your angel blade in Heaven, huh? Wait around while you go upstairs to fight your dick brothers?"_

"_Don't you understand? I am doing this for humanity. I am doing this for you." The angel's calm answer made him angrier. Damn Castiel for picking up the slack that God left! Damn him for feeling responsible, for choosing to save the world than stay by his side. "You would do the same, Dean. If not more."_

_Would he? God, he's tired and he's getting too old for this. He has risked his life, over and over; has gone to Hell. He has seen Lucifer rise. Would he fight an impossible battle in order to save humanity?_

_The simple answer is 'yes' and the angel knew it, just like he knows everything else in his heart. He looked at Castiel again. "Cas...I have lost...a lot. I can't-Not you too." He looked down, looked at the floor. He whispered, "Not you too."_

"_Dean, when it's over...if I-"_

_Dean grabbed Cas by the shoulders and pulled him closer._

"_Whatever the fuck you're gonna say, Cas, don't say it! When it's over, you come back. I don't care if God or Joshua or the other dick angels say you gotta stay in Heaven, fly your feathery ass down here. You come back to me. Please just...come back to me."_

"_I'll always come back, Dean. Always."_

* * *

They had words that night. They always have - always have had? - words with each other; Dean pushing the angel as far as he will go just to see if Cas will show his anger as his own temper rises with the succinct and almost-always logical answer the angel gives.

They had words, but Dean didn't say what was truly in his heart. The angel was leaving and Dean knew he couldn't do anything about it, just as he knew something was wrong with Sam when he came back from Hell. He flung angry retorts at the angel for choosing to lead the angels into a battle they might not win, but he didn't tell him the words that Cas needed to hear. Oh, but he tried. Towards the end, before the angel flew out of his motel room, never to be seen again, he tried telling Cas how much he means to him. But the words got stuck in his throat, never to be spoken. Because, _fuck_. What will it matter? The angel was leaving and no amount of words will make him stay.

"_Please just...come back to me."_

Those were the only meaningful words he allowed himself to say that night. He hoped that the angel would know what he means and that Cas wouldn't demand that Dean spill his heart. Because he would. One word from Castiel and he would spill his heart, lay it bare for him. But Cas is Cas. He doesn't ask for anything. And Dean regrets that he hasn't given the angel the chance to ask him for anything.

Dean has been practicing saying those words that will not come out. _These words_, he thought, _are not that difficult, right? _At night, with Sam sleeping in the next bed, he says the words softly. Always softly. Because if he says it any louder, his heart would break all over again. He knew he wouldn't survive the night if that happens and Sam needed him. Sam needed him to be there, to be whole. So he focuses his energy on staying whole despite the big gaping space in his soul.

Dean tips the bottle to his lips, and seeing that it's empty, orders another one. His last one, he swears, before he calls it a night. An empty, hopeless night.

_Fuck. Five months._ Five months he's been doing this. How many months more will he have to wait for the angel? Waiting around for news that will never come. Never knowing if he's alive or not. He'll never know, because he knows the other angels don't like the Winchesters. Hell, they want him dead.

There were times he prays to Castiel, "Please be alive." He doesn't say his name. He doesn't say it out loud, lest Sam hears. If Sam hears, then he'll know Dean is not entirely whole. He'll know and he'll want to talk about it. No, he doesn't say Castiel's name.

_Please be alive._

There were nights he'd leave Sam sleeping in the motel room and drive alone. Just drive anywhere. Hoping-no, willing the angel to show up in the passenger seat and smile one of his small smiles.

_Please be alive._

There were days when he would see a flash of tan and look if the angel, _his angel_, was there. He'd stare because if it were Castiel, he'd want to go to him quickly. But it's never Cas.

_Please_, he looks up at the ceiling, keeping the tears at bay, _just come back to me, Cas_.

For the first time in months, he allows himself to say the name. He looks around slowly. Every crevice inside the bar is given attention, just in case. He sighs. No angel. Angrily, he closes his tab, grabs his jacket and keys, and heads for the door. _Fuck._ What did he expect, that the angel would show up? That the ever-absent God will take pity on Dean Winchester and send Cas to him?

He pushes the bar door open and steps out into the night. Another night. Tonight, he'll start counting to the sixth month of the angel's departure, right down to the minute. Then, he'll drink himself stupid for waiting for someone who might not come back. Then, he'll do it all again.

He looks at his shoes as he walks to the Impala. Then he tenses up as the air shift. Something's different. He reaches for his knife and turns, tuning his hunter's instincts to find what's amiss and kill it.

"Hello, Dean."

He whirls around and finds himself staring into familiar eyes the color of the ocean. So bright, so alien. So surreal.

"Cas?" he breathes, the hand holding the knife aloft.

The angel nods and smiles.

He drops the knife, grabs the lapels of the tan coat, and tugs the angel closer, personal space be damned. "Cas," he says again, his heart beating erratically.

"Yes, Dean. It's me."

"You came back." He closes his eyes.

"I came back. For you. Always for you."

Dean pulls Cas closer still, bringing their foreheads together.

"Cas?"

"Yes, Dean?"

He opens his eyes. Those words he has been practicing come immediately to his mind. Words that he never thought he'd get to say to the angel ever come tumbling out. "I love you."

The angel, _his angel_, smiles. "As I love you."


End file.
